In the Vale of Beasts and Men
by Blue-Jaye.Fevre
Summary: Emissary in training Genim of the House Stilinski is selected to serve under the House of Argent, rulers of the Vale of Argenium. There his notions of good and evil, man and monster and the order of the world is shifted forever by the Royal family and their enslaved Lycan servants. Rated M for Sexual Situations, Language, violence, and graphic imagery. Medieval AU.
1. Histories of Argenium, 4th edition

_From the collected Histories of Argenium, fourth edition by Emissary Tindall_

In the year 671, Ulwick the Cunning lead a band of humans from the eastern reaches of the lands of men and westward towards the uncharted forests, where the only living things were the trees and the beasts. After five years of travel and hardship, Ulwick stumbled across a great river, with waters as bright as stars and as blue as sapphires. And beyond that river lay a great vale that stretched for miles and miles. Miles of fields and an ocean of trees filled the great vale, with streams of ore that trickled through the land, as though they were tears of the earth itself.

Ulwick crossed into the vale with his people prepared to claim the lands for their own. But upon reaching the other side of the bountiful river, they found that their lands were not their own. The vale was inhabited by grotesque creatures that bore the bodies of men, but with hideous faces, covered in fur and fang. Vicious and savage, the beasts attacked Ulwick's people for months before Ulwick sought out a weapon for which to destroy the creatures. Upon discovering by happenstance the toxicity of the plant aconitum towards the creatures, Ulwick began to cultivate the plant for his people. The followers of Ulwick, now armed with poisons, oils and other salves capable of killing the creatures, began to win significant victories against their foes.

By the year 684, the creatures had been pushed back to the westernmost reaches of the vale, driven to endangerment by the humans. Ulwick was praised a hero and lived anther fifty years before dying of wounds sustained during an excursion to the north of the vale.

In the centuries to follow the discovery of the vale, the children of Ulwick grew prosperous and powerful; they established the town of Beacon Hills in the year 923, which grew in size, status and influence as the decades passed. Before the town was founded, the humans of the Vale lived through two further resistances from the creatures. Both were incapacitated early and with ease.

In the year 1074, the City of Beacon Hills had reached a population of over sixty-thousand with fifteen-thousand inhabitants living around the vale in the towns of Whittenden, Brightblooms, Cold Barrow and Stone Quays. It was in this year that the creatures were given name, and that their power was truly known. The leader of the surviving creatures, a magnificent beast who called himself Lykaon, ordered the abduction of hundreds of countrymen and children from around the city of Beacon Hills. Once abducted, the hostages were given the bite and unleashed back within the population centers. Like a plague, the curse spread, infecting thousands upon thousands of humans. The Argent leader at the time, Andros, proved to be too ineffectual to deal with the creatures. His oldest son, Aloysius, took control after Andros was assassinated defending the city from one of Lykaon's skirmishes. Desperate for an answer to his problem, Aloysius prayed to the Gods for salvation and marshaled the surviving humans to wage war against the creatures, named Lycans for their association with Lykaon. Aloysius bravery, tactical prowess, and sheer numbers allowed for the destruction of the majority of the Lycan numbers.

Lykaon, losing every battle and many of his followers by the week, sought the aid of the ancient order of Emissaries, men from the West who served the Lycans for a millennia. The Emissaries agreed to aid Lykaon in eliminating the men who had fought so savagely against the Lycans. But Lykaon had a short memory and a trusting heart, for his massacres of the human race had insulted the proud Emissaries. In retaliation for his abuses of power and his upsetting of the fragile balance of power within the vale, the Emissaries taught the Aloysius the secrets of the Lycans, from their strengths and their weaknesses.

Aloysius, armed with the newfound knowledge of the lunar cycle, Mountain Ash and pack dynamics began to slay the Lycans in staggering numbers. In a last ditch effort to dispel the humans of the vale, Lykaon staged a massive assault on the city of Beacon Hills. Aloysius was there and far prepared to deal with him. It was at this final battle that the Emissaries revealed their treachery and turned the battle from an even fight into a crushing victory. Lykaon's top beta, Lupa attempted to flee with her people as they had in the past, only to find a wall of Mountain Ash miles long standing before the Western reaches of the Vale. Aloysius captured thousands of Lycans and trapped them within cages of Mountain Ash.

Aloysius did not want to merely exterminate the Lycan people, but he wished to make them pay for the deaths of every human they had harmed. In a fit of determined discipline, Aloysius planted two separate groves around the Mountain Ash cages of the post-war internment camp. One was short and held back by a gate of pure silver, coated daily in liquefied Aconite. The second stretched for miles around said camp, where Aconite was allowed to grow in toxic doses between the trees. Aloysius intentionally left behind a large mass of land for which fields could be planted. As a final piece, Aloysius had his Masons construct a gigantic wall between the outer eastern section of the Mountain Ash grove, allowing for entrance to and from the grove for humans, but only entrance for Alpha Lycans. Betas and Omegas could leave, but the great masters of the packs were helpless within the Grove. Aloysius then formed a a whole branch of soldiers dedicated to the warding of captive Lycans and pursuit of fugitive Lycans.

The grove was then christened Lykaon as a reminder to all Lycans of their place in human society, and Aloysius lived for a great seventy years, after which his daughter, Esther took his place as the reigning Monarch of Argenium. Esther was far more shrewd than her father, eschewing the penal system of the Lycans in favor of servitude. Lycans were forced to work the fields within the borders of the grove, and many Lycan children were taken and bred into servants for the upper class of Beacon Hills.

In the year 1293, one such Beta named Talia felt a surge of power, Talia's alpha father had passed away and she received his gift through being his oldest child. Talia kept her power hidden for nearly two decades before she was discovered to be an Alpha. She used her power as one of the few Alphas outside of Lykaon to organize an uprising of betas. The current head of the Argent family, Alexander Argent, deftly crushed Talia's resistance and had her locked away within Lykaon. Talia's children, Derek and Laura were taken from her and kept as hostages within the Argent household. Talia remained stoic and refused to cause trouble if her children went unharmed. That year, 1312, saw the last great rebellion of Lycans within the Kingdom of Argenium.

Externally, a new threat arose in the year 1316, when the vicious Prometheus and a unity of packs invaded the Vale to free their brethren and slay the Argent family. During this war, Alexander Argent and his sons were killed, forcing his niece, Victoria Argent, last scion of the branch of Aloyisus, to take command and oust Prometheus and his followers. Victoria, like her forebear, sought the aid of the Emissaries to defeat the rogue Lycans. The Emissaries agreed, but only under the condition that they be given a proper place within the Kingdom. With the aid of these individuals, Victoria tricked the unknowing Prometheus into two separate traps: In the first, his children and the children of his alphas were given quarter with the Emissary Deaton. In the second, The Emissary Morrell gathered the Alphas for a secret meeting between themselves and her own Order of the Vale. Prometheus' Emissary Bacari warned against the idea, but Prometheus blindly believed in the loyalty of the Emissaries.

At the meeting, Morrell gave the signal and had the alphas slaughtered by dozens of marksmen wielding aconite tipped arrows. Before the meeting occurred, Deaton brought the children within the inner grove, where they transformed into Alphas. The oldest, a young man by the name of Deucalion, swore vengeance upon the house of Argent until his dying breath.

For the next two decades, only minor events marked the history of Argenium, where the rule of the Queen was firm, but just and the land thrived once again unburdened by the inflammation of war. Only now tensions brew beneath the surface, not only in the hearts of wolves, but also within men.

* * *

UPDATED: Some changes in this intro that I incorporated as I mapped out the setting of the story.

-Population changes added. Much more reasonable than over 200k worth of individuals

-Argenium is the territory, Beacon Hills is its' capital city.

-Argenium is a Kingdom, its' rulers are Monarchs (As opposed to the Ducal system I had in place)

-Beacon Hills founded in 923 as opposed to 1023, allowing for a more natural population increase.

-town of Stone Quays (pronounced keys) added

-Emissaries originated in the West as opposed to the East.

Slight changes to present a more realistic story alongside a better setup for the story. I am currently working on the first chapter and should have that up once I have more free time on my hands. Until then, enjoy! ;)


	2. Prophecies

The winds were softly blowing across the vast fields of Brightblooms, rustling the ordered rows of Maize and tickling seas of Barley. The midday sun shone down upon the farmers in their fields and the villagers upon the paths alike. To and fro along the worn cobblestone paths leading from the village proper past the fields and farms of the peasantry, around the bend of the river Argenium and towards the unclaimed meadows of the Vale strode the townsfolk. So occupied with their work of carting goods to the local market or rushing to complete the chores before sunset were these smallfolk that they failed to notice the young man in the meadow.

It was an unclaimed meadow, still coated in the ripe grass of the springtime and born by great oaks and apple trees, lone sentinels of an age long gone. Stalks of tall grass coat the meadows in swathes and here and there lay stones and rocks, markers for the travelers to know how far they have wandered.

On one such rock, basking in the sun and absorbing its beams in a slim lad of eight years. Garbed in a worn if fitted Doublet and khaki breeches, the youth is a picture of the careless living that has come to mark the youth of Argenium: Sprawled out amongst the earth's carpet, arms pillowing his head against a rough-hewn stone, eyes shut to the sun with ears open to the world the youth hides from the responsibilities bestown upon him.

He hates his lessons, the need for learning and scrolls, or musty tomes, text flooded tomes and the hazy burn of the tallow. Except for the illustrations of the Friars and the Emissaries documenting every flower and beast with accuracy unknown to him; never had those drawings displeased him.

If only father had not been busy with efforts in the city, if he were home he would tell him the stories of the fanged monsters and the brave knights and the noble hunters; of great battles and heroes. Instead all that he could do was play in the meadows while mother rested. She had been so sweet to him that morning, promising to join him in the fields that day. Once she felt better-

*a thick flutter of wings*

The youth opens his eyes, mind honed on the sound: Set downfield towards the edge of the meadow, hovering in midair is a massive mint creature of powdered wings and insectoid appearance, darting about the open air with jeweled movements,

The youth decides then, that it would make an excellent addition to his collection. With slight motion he rises, ascending to a crouch and stalking in an arc around the prize.

When it begins to move the youth rises from his crouch and paces towards it, practicing the rhythms his mother taught him.

In a picture of greens and golds, of tawny trees and lightened skies a flash of quartz can be seen amongst the natural hues of the meadow. A slim figure calmly moves about the meadow, his gait both predatory and light. The creature, a massive specimen, flutters about occasionally gliding across the tops of the tall grasses.

The youth moves to the edge of the tall grasses, eyes never leaving the fluttering creature and the sphere beyond it of field and trail. He moves through the grasses and towards the creature, which has moved into a circular clearing and is hovering in the middle. The youth notices the patterns of the grass, a spiral moving towards the center of the clearing, the beauty of the moth.

The moth turns, setting brilliant jade eyes on him. He approaches the creature slowly, as though to not frighten it off. It remains fluttering in place, regarding the boy with multifaceted eyes brighter than the stones of House Whittemore.

The youth reaches a hand out to touch the moth. The breeze picks up, rustling the grass like a sigh from the land itself.

_Stiles_. A murmur on the lips of the wind.

"Master Genim!" The youth rips his eyes away from the Moth and towards the new voice in the meadow, which sounds like his mother's lady in waiting Janis.

He turns back to the moth, only it is gone. The grass is merely patched and without higher design, the grasses are still.

"Master Genim!" Janis calls out again, her body rustling through the tall grass as she breaches the clearing. He turns back to her, sorry that he missed the beautiful moth and ready to return home. Janis is pale, her eyes red rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.

"Master Genim, we must return to the house. We must send for your lord father immediately."

Genim doesn't reply at first. He doesn't understand why Janis would be crying and why they would need father to come home from the city and why mother hadn't joined him in the field-

Until he does understand. And the sun grows a little darker in the sky as he falls prostrate to the ground.

* * *

"Stiles! Wake up!"

Stiles flails forward, knocking over a flagon of water and smacking several plates across the communal table from which he had fallen asleep on.

Apprentices Novak and Jurley laugh loudly, while the beleaguered Innkeeper casts an evil eye from the bar area.

Stiles gets his bearings, casting the last vestiges of an old dream from the corners of his mind. Rubbing his eyes, he asks what time it is.

"A few minutes past eleven o'clock. We figured leaving you behind would be a poor thing to do, especially in light of Emissary Deaton's chastisements of late." Jurley snorts into his drink, voicing his displeasure in the most intelligent way he could muster.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles notes that he was in his cups prior to surrendering to Orpheus: A half dozen empty drinking glasses lay strewn across the table, victims to a night of post session festivities. That Stiles can even remember that much after the fact is prodigious.

"We need to return to the guild dormitories."

Jurley snorts again, allowing Stiles to further lower his opinion of his peer.

"Afraid of getting caught? So long as we are up at dawn for morning meditations Deaton won't even notice."

Novak shakes his head in disagreement. "Deaton will know we were out, even if he never sees us enter the dormitories and we are brighter than day come morn. We will be cleaning the gutters with the dawn my fellowes."

The three groan in disappointment and proceed to refill their glasses with wine. It's a poor vintage, and it definitely has been cut by the Innkeeper with something rank. But the flagons are only a handful of Silver Arrows compared to the more expensive vintages of Whittenden or Lykaon. Lycan grown wine sells for outrageous sums, even if the quality is only above fair.

Stiles knows that the oaken Syrah his father prefers could easily outmatch even the most select cask of Whitten Red, but he also remembers why he has never entered it in the royal tastings. Claudia loved the arbors of Brightblooms, and she never boasted or bragged of their quality. Only that they be enjoyed by all.

"Stiles, regardless of time, we should most likely be heading back to the Guild Quarter. Too much later and we could be picked up by a sweep." Apprentice Novak whispered at Stiles. Stiles was all too familiar with the Watchmen, the unofficial town guard that swept the city at night for street urchins, criminals and escaped Lycans. More often than not however the sweeps merely arrested any citizens out on main streets later than usual. Arrested was a rather formal word for kidnapping however, and the families of the captured would either have to ransom back their charges or allow them to languish in the smaller Gaols of Beggar's Row.

Stiles had encountered a rowdy group one night while walking back from a late night errand run for Emissary Tindall from the Market District. The hooligans presumed that he was a drunken friar from the Faith's Campus who had lost his way. Stiles told them that he was an Emissary in training and that they would have regretted attacking him.

They decided to charge him.

It was a foolish maneuver, for even a fledgling Emissary was still more than a match for a handful of guards-for-hire. Stiles merely blinded them with a spell of light and scurried off along the streets back towards the Guild Quarter. At the time Stiles had been taught only a handful of spells and no Martial training. It would have gone poorly in any other circumstance.

Stiles sighed and rose from his bench, ambling over towards the Innkeeper. After depositing a small pouch of Silver Arrows on the mans' bar Stiles gathered his friends-_ Friend_, Jurley was nothing more than an upjumped son of a Taskmaster from Whittenden- and exited the Inn of the Triumphant Stag and out onto Beacon Square.

While the Inn was a shambling, monster of patched wood and precarious add ons, the rest of the Square was opulent beyond measure: A massive white marble fountain roared in the center of the Diamond oriented Square, a stream of water issuing from the mouth of the marble Stag positioned triumphantly over the corpse of a massive wolf carved from obsidian, while tiers of engraved marble staged the scenes for every onlooker to observe. To Stiles left was the Armory, a gray brick fort that housed the proper city Guard. To his right was the Northern Street that linked Uptown and the Market District together. It was a well patrolled and lit corridor that led to the River's Gate and towards the banks of the Argenium.

Stiles and his companions strolled along the worn but maintained tiles of the Square towards the Western street, which led towards the Guild Quarter and the noble houses of Wolfshead Heights. On the Northwest side of the Diamond was the Town Hall and the City Archives. A light in one of the upper rooms led Stiles to believe that Lord Mayor Finstock was still hard at work, even at this time of night.

A chorus of laughter tore Stiles' eyes away from the Town Hall and to the Southwest side of the Diamond, where the towering Palace of the Silver Sun was situated. Built by the flippant King Alphonse I over a hundred years ago, the Palace was the where the Argent's held court when they were in the city, however rarely. Most of the time it was used for Masquerades and Great Feasts, for Dances and Parties of the Upper Class of Beacon Hills. With great glass windows and delicate stonework detailing the outside of the palace, Stiles doubted that it would last more than an hour under siege. Yet the opulence, the raw power of the House Argent was on full display in the façade of their palace: Great Iron and Stone fences enclosed the space, while luscious greenery dominated the slim gardens viewable from the front of the palace. The hidden cloisters and groves in the rear of the Palace were verdant and evergreen, even during the vicious winters of Argenium, or so Stiles had heard in whispers.

The loud melodies of orchestras and mummers rang from within the Palace, where a great ball must been taking place. Stiles focused his eyes towards the West end of the city, where The Guild Quarter stood. The Iron Spire of Esther, another Argent holding, loomed tall and oppressing, yet completely inaccessible. The Peasantry gossiped that the Argents wore Magic rings that could allow them to phase through the walls at will. Stiles knew better; Phase magic was practically unheard of in the Vale, although older Emissaries such as Tindall recounted beasts possessed of such abilities found much further west of the vale.

The three Apprentices kept moving onwards, towards the heavily patrolled and grand streets of the Western Ward. The three traveled for a short period along the Western street until they diverged on Guild's Trail, the street leading into the mammoth Guild Quarter. From the outside the Guild Quarter appeared as a massive six pointed star, at least two hundred feet tall and made of sheer stone. Between the North and Northeast points of the star was a small walled enclosure with a gatehouse, a large stable and a Guardhouse where Novice warriors spent their later years guarding as part of their training.

Novak approached the Gatehouse and called for the Novices to open up. A novice hunter shouted to the gatehouse to open up for the Emissaries. The portcullis rose up and allowed the three Apprentices to enter into the Small Yard and towards the Main gate of the Guild Quarter. A handful of Novices were mulling about the yard and casually bantering with each other. With so Lycan threat in over two decades and the sheer army housed behind the Main Portcullis of the Guild Quarter, few Novices ever took their duties seriously within the Small Yard.

The three Apprentices entered through a stone tunnel that led to the Common Yard, eventually exiting out the corridor and into a massive circular space, the sight of which never ceased to amaze Stiles. Many Peasants believed that the inside of the Guild Quarter was filled with a handful of castles or other forts, when in actuality each point of the star was a solid, triangular castle. Together they more or less formed a hexagonal central yard, with a brick road ringing the Guilds together. Some green space filled the ring between another ancillary brick road, with smaller paths forming perfectly straight passages between the outer and inner roads. At the center of the space was a circular Green with a squat, stone tower in the center. Taking up the majority of the Green space, the tower housed the Guildmaster's Chambers and the examination entrance rooms for each of the six guilds.

Novak led Jurley and Stiles back towards the Emissaries Guild, the Southwest Point of the Guild Quarter. They passed the Warrior's Guild of the Northern Point and the Assassin's Guild of the Northwest Point before arriving at the Ivy-strewn front of the Emissaries' Guild. As Novak produced a key and led the group inside, Stiles felt a wave of cold pass over him. He whipped around to find the source, locating a robed figure standing at the edge of the Green, facing his direction.

"Will you get in here Stilinski!" Jurley hissed at Stiles.

Stiles turned his head for a moment to hiss back at Jurley. "That's Lord Stilinski to you Jurley, remember your place!"

When he looked back, the figure had gone, and the braziers along the path had been extinguished. Despite wielding more power than five grown men, Stiles hurried inside the antechamber of the Guild of Emissaries and allowed Novak to lock the door behind him. With quiet resignations, the three apprentices moved back towards their dormitories on the different floors of the Guild.

Stiles opened the door to his small stone room, a single with a thin bed, a small writing desk equipped with inkpot, quill and Eastermarch quality candle- Stiles refused to buy Tallow candles for his studies- adjacent to a thin bookcase, which sat opposite to a dresser. A small woven rug sat the center of his completely stone room, which was small but surprisingly tall in vaulting.

Stiles stripped out of his gray Emissary robes and into a nightshirt and small clothes. Sliding under the thin sheets of his bed, he recounted the arduous sessions with Emissary Kessra, the recurring dream of the Moth signaling his mother's death, and the mysterious figure of the Green.

Stiles did not believe in Prophecies, but did accept that those in tune with the Magical energies of the world could often be beset upon by images or foretellings that would herald future occurrences.

Stiles did _not_ believe in Prophecies.

Cuddling closer to his pillow, Stiles allowed himself to fall back into sleep, mumbling the well-worn words of Dreamless sleep to himself.

And for that night, Genim Stilinski, son of Sir John Stilinski and Lady Claudia Stilinski; Heir to Orchid House, Brightblooms and its attendant lands; Emissary in Training of the Guild and sworn protector of Argenium did not dream.

But what he did not know was the chain of events he had set off, held in the smallest of his actions.

* * *

**Don't worry about being overwhelmed by the details and new settings. I have about 8 MS Paint documents that have the layouts of every district and the city as well as the whole of Argenium, along with two word docs loaded with place names and descriptions, family trees, mottoes and organizations. So just sit back and enjoy the ride ladies and gentlemen! ;)**

**(Oh and since this has a massive cast, I will release a Spoiler free dramatis personae once the introductory chapters have kicked off. For now, just treat the characters on a chapter by chapter basis.)**

**Thanks for reading and please review/comment/rate! Drop me a line if you have any questions!**


	3. Unexpected Sessions

Stiles had sessions in the morning with Emissary Holgrave, who Stiles found to be several shades less severe than the ferocious Kessra he had dealt with the day prior.

Stiles found himself in a room with six other Apprentices: The gaunt son of a fishmonger, Swyft; the Demure and soft spoken daughter of a town guard, Morris; The twin sons of a lesser Banker, Joliet; and of course, Novak and Jurley. Novak yielded no recurrences of the festivities held since Stiles had last seen him, but Jurley seemed to be coping with the spiteful spirit of the morning after.

Not that Holgrave cared one bit: The man may have been less wicked than Kessra, but he was far from forgiving. He stood at the opposite end of the stone lecture hall. Normally several woven rugs would have been laid down for students to meditate upon.

Today there were no rugs to be seen, but three medium sized boxes were situated against the back wall, all covered in heavy tarpaulin. Holgrave moved past one of the boxes and patted his hand on it neatly before turning back to his apprentices.

"You were scheduled to practice meditations this morning, but I had something a bit different in mind. Emissary Kessra has told me of your advancements in spellcraft, to the point where I feel confident in the lessons I am about to instill."

Every nerve in Stiles body went rigid, a thrum of electricity coursing through his body. Out of the corners of his eyes he caught his classmates acting similarly, standing straighter and trying to fight the irritations of the pull of druidic magic. A heavy thud signaled the slamming of the door behind them. The flames in the wall sconces flickered.

Holgrave walked next to a pulpit affixed on his side of the room, dipped a black feather into the inkpot on the writing side, and began to mark the names of the apprentices present. As he wrote, he spoke. "You will work in pairs for today, with Swyft and Morris, the Joliet boys, and Jurley and the _Lord_ Stilinski working as the final pair."

Stiles bristled at Holgrave's idea of a joke, making light of his Noble status. He was sure that this was Deaton's punishment for the three older Apprentices staying out the before: Stiles would have to duel Jurley for the next hour and a half before chores and his commune with nature.

"Apprentice Novak, you will assist me in setting the lines."

For a moment, Stiles actually had the audacity to complain about Novak's luck before realizing that they never used lines in duels before. His eyes widened as both Novak and Holgrave produced small leather pouches and began drawing straight lines across the entrance of the hall and the back where the Pulpit was located with a fine black substance. Holgrave made a sharp right turn with his line, pouring it to the wall instead of in front of the boxes. Stiles mouthed Mountain Ash as he realized that they weren't dueling each other at all.

Holgrave then grabbed the Tarpaulin and wrenched it from what Stiles had believed to be boxes but had proven to be cages of Mountain Ash, revealing three snarling Lycans: Stiles had seen the servants in some of the higher houses, and he had seen them at the Market of the Flesh within the Market District, but he had never witnessed them transformed into their bestial forms: Scrunched brows and elongated canines with eyes that shone like the brightest of torches, that otherworldly yellow.

"First pair up, step over the line and prepare to fight. If you can subdue the Lycans then you can leave for your chores. You will be graded on the kinds of spells you use and to some amount, the creativity of these spells. And please try not to die. It makes my day go by all that much longer." Holgrave spoke in a monotone as he motioned for Swyft and Morris to step over the line and towards the center of the room. The moment they reached the middle, Holgrave snapped his fingers. The fronts of the cages opened and the Lycans bolted out, racing straight for the pair.

To her credit, Morris did not cry as a vicious beast leapt towards her, instead raising her hands up and calling upon a ward of shielding. It worked… momentarily as the Lycan crashed into the shield before regaining its balance and swiping at Morris. Morris dodged the blow and summoned a stronger ward around her person, pushing it outwards and knocking the Lycan off balance.

Swyft was busy managing two Lycans at once: The second and third Lycans had been slightly smarter in attacking Swyft, with one moving the breadth of the room and around Swyft while the other rushed the Apprentice all together. Swyft cast a charm of Obscurement, summoning winds to stay hidden briefly from the second Lycan. Baffled, the creature stopped and sniffed at the air before making a wide swipe to its' left, causing Swyft to cry out in pain and the claws made contact with his side.

Morris cried out as the Lycan attacking her managed a blow to her shoulder, ripping through her robes and causing a trickle of blood to seep into the material. Holgrave merely sighed and continued to mark on the paper, but made no move to intervene.

Something in Stiles boiled over at that point, for he found himself hopping over the line and into the fray. The third Lycan, about to pounce on the downed Swyft, was unceremoniously blasted forward by Stiles manipulation of energy, sending him crashing into Holgrave's line and shocking him into submission. Putting himself between Swyft and the second Lycan, Stiles summoned a stronger ward around him and took several of the beast's slashes before pushing him back several feet. He quickly glanced over to see Morris still holding out against the first Lycan, although barely.

"Morris, regroup!" Stiles shouted at her as pulled Swyft's unconscious body to the center of the room. Morris used what little remained of her energy to propel the first Lycan back, sending him stumbling towards the left hand wall. Clutching her shoulder she moved next to Stiles side, tears streaming down her face. The two Lycans recovering, Stiles gathered up the _will _dwelling deep within him and threw up his hand, conjuring a circle of Mountain Ash.

Both Lycan's smashed into the circle, being pushed back and dazed, if momentarily. The First Lycan looked dazed, while the Third was roaring and ready to strike back.

Stiles jumped out of the circle and summoned up the _Fury_ dwelling within him, his hands burning with energy and eyes brimming with light. The First Lycan dove at him, where Stiles grabbed the creature by it's' neck, flesh instantly sizzling and crackling at the touch. With a roar, Stiles smashed the Lycan's head against the wall, a sickening crunch heard underneath.

A snarl resounded from behind him, Stiles whipped around to stare face to face with the final Lycan. Stiles gathered up the energy of _Calm_ from within and held his palm against the Lycan's skull. The Lycan went slack as the energies coursed through its' veins and its face reverted from Lycan to human. The Lycan, so fierce in stature was reduced to a peacefully sleeping girl.

Stiles turns to face still blank faced Holgrave. "I've never seen Lycans so incensed or powerful before. Morris should have taken down that first one with ease, but it took quite bruising wouldn't you say Emissary?"

Holgrave's face remains stony. "The Lycans are strong as they need to be Apprentice. We should discuss your lack of obedience first however-"

"No, I think we need to discuss why three Betas were nearly able to kill two Apprentices while their instructor stood and did nothing-"

"Those were mere Omegas Apprentice Stilinski-"

"In the Night's Hell those were Omegas!" Stiles curses, roaring at Emissary Holgrave. Stiles remembers the Tournament hosted by the late Lord Lahey of Cold Barrow four years prior: Omegas pitted against each other couldn't have even had a third of the strength possessed by the beasts here.

The room goes quiet as Stiles notes the difference in how the room is lighter, as though the door has been opened, and the silence of his peers and the look on Holgrave's face as he stares at the doorway and- of course.

Stiles wheels around to see an ever stoic Deaton appraising the downed Omegas on the floor. He slowly raises his head to Stiles. "I came to ask to speak with Apprentice Stilinski in my work chambers. While I am glad to see he is getting a chance to display his finesse, I would implore you to remember that not every lesson begins in bombast Emissary Holgrave."

"I was merely trying to educate these layabouts in the true meaning of Druidism, should they wish to leave the Guild I think that we would not be poorer for it."

"Yes, and may I remind you that all Lycans held within the Hecatolite cells are only meant for observation and final rites of passage. Not for basic studies. You will return these creatures to the Gaol and then you will rectify your mistake by proctoring the entrance examinations within the Central Keep. Dismissed Emissary Holgrave."

Holgrave's eyes flicker at the tedious punishment he has been sentenced with, but he humbly bows and begins to place the Lycans within their Mountain Ash cages. Deaton turns to the Apprentices doles out commands: The Joliet twins will help take Swyft and Morris to the Healers on the lower levels; Novak and Jurley will stay and assist Holgrave with the cleanup and reassembly of the room. Stiles is told to follow Deaton. Stiles holds his hands up in placation when Novak and Jurley give him sour looks, believing Stiles to have escaped punishment.

Stiles knows that Deaton forgets nothing, and that he will be paying for the previous night with some form of punishment.


	4. Kings of Argenium, 13th Edition

_**Key: Numeral of Rule - Dates of Reign - Name of Monarch - Dates of Death and Birth - Titles and Accomplishments accrued during Reign [Addendum: Bracketed names of major ruling houses included within the Reigns of Specific Monarchs, following the biographies for ease of reference]**_

_**-Emissary Tindall, Summer 1335**_

* * *

**(I) (642-734) Ulwick the Cunning (642-734): Discoverer of the Vale and its' first ruler. Founder of the House of Valewick**

**(II) (734-744) Meryn Valewick (671-744): Ulwick's youngest son; Established the first permanent settlement of Eastermarch. **

**(III) (744-751) Methis Valewick (695-751): Meryn's oldest daughter; Decreed that the line of succession pass to the oldest child of the incumbent ruler, regardless of sex. Methis began constructing the Ulwick Span in 736.**

**(IV) (751-777)Colbryn Valewick (724-777): Methis' middle son; Was slain during the Second Lycan Rebellion.**

**(V) (777-805) Medger Valewick (739-805): Colbryn's oldest son; First stable ruler of the Vale after Ulwick. Completed construction of The Ulwick Span. Instrumental in the development of paved roads in the eastern part of the Vale.**

**(VI) (805-840) Ferelia Valewick (759-840): Medger's oldest daughter; Mother to Arianna; surveyor of the Vale and slayer of Reynard.**

**(VII) (840-883) Arianna Argent nee Valewick (799-883): Ferelia's oldest daughter and last of the Valewick clan. Arianna married Emile Argent in 824.**

**(VIII) (883-904) Aurelius Argent (830-904): First of the Argent line; established the Iron crown of Argenium and founded many of the initial political and organizational changes that ushered in the Argent Dynasty.**

**(IX) (904-940) Genevieve Argent (861-940): Aurelius' oldest daughter and the first settler of Beacon Hills; Founded the city in 923.**

**(X) (940-992) Alistair Argent (889-992): The Old King; Alistair oversaw the expansion of Beacon Hills and its' first fortifications. Alistair constructed the Old House, the first living place of the Argents until the construction of Argent House. Founder of the Guild of Warriors.**

**(XI) (992-1000) Anton Argent (929-1000): Moderate King who established the Guild of Masons and constructed the first set of walls around Beacon Hills. **

**(XII) (1000-1020) Abilene Argent (963-1020): Established the Guild of Hunters; Founded the first Prison of Argenium: Queenston Gaol. [House Whittemore landed]**

**(XIII) (1020-1041) Ordran Argent (987-1041): Founded the Guild of Merchants; Attempted to expand commerce across Argenium. Assassinated by a rival.**

**(XIV) (1041-1041) Mirielle Argent (1009-1041): The False Queen; Ordran's middle child who poisoned her older sister for the Crown. She was found guilty of Kinslaying and hanged.**

**(XV) (1041-1080) Andros Argent (1015-1080): The Youngest surviving son of Ordran; Father to Aloysius. An ineffectual King, Andros took some lengths to counter Lykaon (See, The War of the White Wolf) but ended up being deposed by his son Aloysius.**

**(XVI) (1080-1130) Aloysius Argent (1039-1165): The Great King; Aloysius is considered to be the greatest King of the Argent line. A brilliant general, shrewd leader and peerless soldier, Aloysius was responsible for treating with the mysterious Emissaries in order to defeat Lykaon. Aloysius also founded the great Lycan prison Lykaon, named in remembrance of the Lycans' fallen leader. Aloysius was also instrumental in founding The Faith of the Dauntless Sun, Argenium's chief religion. Bestowed with the grace of the Emissaries, Aloysius lived for well over a hundred years, but ceded the crown to his eldest daughter Esther in the Year 1130. [Houses Finstock and Lahey landed]**

**(XVII) (1130-1180) Esther Argent (1080-1180): The Iron Queen; Esther was ceded the crown in 1130 by her venerable father. Esther was an influential and prosperous Queen, if generally disliked. Her cold demeanor and ruthless efforts earned her little love, but proceeded to turn Argenium into the powerhouse it is. Esther is responsible for the shackling of the Lycans and their forced servitude; The proper construction of the districts in Beacon Hills, including Beacon Square, The Guild Quarter, and her personal fortress The Iron Spire. It was later revealed that Esther fostered a Bastard son by an unnamed man. The scandal would prove hazardous for her reputation, but a godsend for the Argent family in the centuries to come. [Houses Primrose and Daehler landed]**

**(XVIII) (1180-1207) Alphonse Argent (1143-1207): The Silver King; Esther left no next of kin when she died, leaving the crown to her next oldest nephew, Alphonse. Alphonse took the vast reserves that Esther had generated through proper finances and lavishly built a new Palace within Beacon Square. Alphonse's greatest achievement was the construction of the upper class district of Wolfshead Heights. His last real marker was beginning construction on Argent House in the countryside. He died well before the first foundations were laid.**

**(XIX) (1207-1242) Ambrose Argent (1172-1242): A notable military strategist and warrior, Ambrose saw to the construction of a proper military within the walls of Beacon Hills, along with proper walls for the city itself. Ambrose turned the gaudy folly of Argent House into a leviathan military fortress, complete with hundred foot walls and state of the art architectural fortifications. [Houses Reyes and Boyd landed]**

**(XX) (1242-1260) Annalise Argent (1195-1260): An unremarkable daughter of Ambrose who is remembered more for stability than any other marker. She was also noted for her embellishment of Argent House and her induction of more culture within Beacon Hills. [House Martin landed]**

**(XXI) (1260-1284) Victor Argent (1225-1284): Victor put down the Fourth Lycan Rebellion. His rule was punctuated less by Lycans than it was by the social unrest of the lower classes of his human subjects.**

**(XXII) (1284-1316) Alexander Argent (1260-1316): The last of the line of Alphonse; Alexander properly handled the Hale Uprising. Alexander and his sons, Andrew and Maxwell, were slain by Prometheus in defense of Beacon Hills.**

**(XXIII) (1316-Present) Victoria Argent (1293-Present): Incumbent Sovereign of Argenium; Although not formally of the line of Alphonse, Victoria is actually of the fabled line of Aloysius through his daughter Esther. Victoria's forebears were given quaint if comfortable lodgings for their silence and lack of protestations towards the line of succession. When Alexander was killed during The Sixth Lycan Rebellion Victoria, then one of Alexander's Lieutenants, revealed her linage and claimed both the Crown and control of the army. Brokering with the Emissaries once again, Victoria gave them a proper place within Argenium if they were to help her slay Prometheus and his Lycan horde. After the fall of Prometheus, Victoria married a distant cousin to cement the line of Argent and has ruled Argenium with a fair and stable hand. [House McCall landed]**


End file.
